


Upon Faint Primrose-Beds

by nepetrel



Category: Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare
Genre: Childhood, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nepetrel/pseuds/nepetrel
Summary: Hermia bent in half with laughter. Nothing could have encouraged Helena more.





	Upon Faint Primrose-Beds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lexigent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexigent/gifts).



Hermia crept through the woods with the feet of a hunting cat, her heels springing up lightly but her back bowed low to help conceal her. Her stealth was well rewarded; there, in the clearing she knew so well, her prey was lying still, not sleeping but breathing airy sighs up to the heavens. Hermia side-stepped quickly to get the proper angle, out of eyeline, and held her breath for a long moment when she stepped directly onto a twig and snapped it. But no one stirred or called her name, and so Hermia crept forth, slowly, slowly, until she launched herself with all her might!

“Hermia!” Helena howled as Hermia crashed into her with a knee to the stomach which was accidental but, Hermia would admit, also extremely diverting. Hermia used the advantage of surprise for as long as she could, pinning Helena for an instant or two. But she was not the only hunting cat around, and after much squirming and cursing Helena managed to pin Hermia's legs with her knees, leaving her hands free to inflict vengeance. 

And vengeance indeed; Helena used those damnably long fingers of hers to tickle all the way up and down Hermia's side, tormenting her so thoroughly that finally even a spirit as strong as Hermia's had to give in and cry out for mercy. 

With one last poke, Helena gave it, collapsing down beside Hermia with a grin. Hermia remained curled up for several moments more, until her breath returned to her and she was able to meet Helena's eye with her own. “That was unbecoming of our sex,” she said primly, her voice an exact replica of her mother's. 

Helena clapped a hand over her mouth, and yet her laugh escaped. “It was only vengeance where vengeance was due!”

Hermia shook her head. “Vengeance would be if you paid back my instruments with my same instruments,” she argued. “Yours are elongated already, and by their nature twice as deadly. And they seem due to grow more. The fairies must be bringing you a tiny rack nightly, and stretching your fingers one by one.” She stopped with wide eyes, and together she and Helena stared up through the trees, watchful for any spirits who might float down to them. 

But none came; Hermia's invocation was without obvious consequence. Helena took the opportunity to strike Hermia once more in the side with her fingers, withdrawing as quickly as she came. “My fingers are not elongated! They suit my form exactly. All my pieces are growing together. Your jealousy brings your scorn; but I promise you, you will grow too, and one day we will be of a height.” 

“Large promises from a large girl,” Hermia sighed, but a smile lit her face. “You will ensure that we are of a height?”

“Yes! Even if I need to bring my own rack to do so.” Hermia bent in half with laughter; encouraged, Helena continued, “we will be of a height, and will find brothers to marry who are also of a height – though taller than our own; and we will be married to them on the same day.”

“The same day!” Hermia wheezed, overcome. “Helena, what powers do you call upon to guarantee this?”

Helena searched for one, and found it. “I promise we will be married on the same day, by that strange light over there!”

“What?” Hermia peered over. “That strange light...that's just some beetle's carapace, lit up by the sun.” 

“It is not!” 

“It is so!”

And so the children fell over themselves fighting again; and the strange light, who was not a beetle at all, turned on airy wings and hummed. “She swore by me, did she?” The fairy murmured. “Well, I suppose I must guarantee it, then. But that will not be for many years, and until then, I bid these girls adieu!” And with that he hefted his sack, perhaps to anoint some sleeping eyes with dew, or to be the strange light in some other child's sky.


End file.
